


Wings Wouldn't Help You Drown

by wasp



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/F, M/M, zombie apocalypse!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasp/pseuds/wasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn just wanted to watch the sun set, watch it bleed into the sky as same as ever in a world that’s forgotten about them, completely slipped under their feet and morphed and fucked up some more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings Wouldn't Help You Drown

“Liam, are you _seriously_ doing push ups right now?” Zayn asks, perched on the hood of their car with a cigarette held lazily between his fingers.

“Haven’t you watched Zombie Land?” Liam asks although they went to watch it together when it came out. Thankfully, he stops and clambers up besides Zayn with a sheepish grin, wiping at the sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Zuckerberg said cardio, I don’t think that’s cardio,” Zayn says and shrugs.

He doesn’t really know and most of all, he doesn’t really fucking care. He just wanted Liam to stop doing push-ups because they were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse with most of their friends and family dead or murderous and no hope in sight. Also they were getting pretty rank and Liam really didn’t need to add fuel to the fire.

Zayn shoves at Liam’s shoulder, wrinkling his nose up mostly for show and slumps against the window of their stolen car. He always thought it’d be cool to steal a car before – in that distant I’ve Played Too Much Grand Theft kind of way but now that they’re surrounded by monsters that want to eat their brains, he has to say, it kind of takes the cool out of it.

“How would you know? You’ve never broken a sweat in your life before,” Liam motions vaguely at the strewn wreckage on the road they’re stopped at.

Zayn glances out at the deserted road, the stink of death and rot in the air. The odour of burning and fire isn’t so ever present anymore but Zayn can’t even tell anymore. But it’s true, Zayn didn’t really do anything physical that would require him to break a sweat before the whole ‘running for your life’ became a quite literal.

Still, they’re not stupid. They’ve had to learn fast and adapt to have survived for this long. But this is just a little reprieve from the endless blood and gore and sense of isolation from the rest of the world. Zayn just wanted to watch the sun set, watch it bleed into the sky as same as ever in a world that’s forgotten about them, completely slipped under their feet and morphed and fucked up some more.

“The Zombie Apocalypse,” Zayn says dramatically, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. He remembers he did a short comic on it for the college paper – he can’t even remember how long ago it was now. Liam probably knows.

Liam only nods absently, pulling his knee up to his chin. He’s keeping an eye out as always, on guard 24/7. If Zayn had to choose anyone to be stranded together in a zombie apocalypse he would definitely have chosen Liam. He’s strong and smart and has _great_ instincts – Zayn would not want to be a zombie with Liam on the other side (that’s one of his recurring night mares but that’s neither here nor there). While Liam’s bashing in zombie skulls and being a strategic master mind Zayn keeps walking into corpses by accident and his boots really can’t take any more intestine before he’s going to have to abandon them. They were made from some animal hide he’s never heard of before and were very very expensive – Zayn really likes his shoes, he doesn’t want to part with them. He’s also quite fond of Liam and can’t really imagine his survival without him. Doesn’t want to.

They went to the same university and both so far away from home had fallen so easily against each other. That was, of course, before everything went arse up and the fucking _zombie apocalypse_ happened.

“We should get going,” Liam says and jumps off the hood of the car.

Zayn stays where he is for another moment. He follows after him, stumbling when his feet meet the ground. He curses his fucked natural abilities and gets in the passenger seat after Liam.

“Hey, you’ve got a bit of zombie there,” Liam says, gesturing at Zayn’s whole self.

Zayn snorts, throwing his cigarette out of the window with a flick of his finger. He reaches for his seat belt, securing it before replying. He’s seen Zombieland – he knows this shit.

“You’ve got a bit of arsehole there,” Zayn says and mimics Liam’s gesture at him.

Liam starts the car without trouble, laughing so hard his cheeks go all the way up and dimple. It doesn’t seem to matter as much, the drying blood caking the both of them up, when he’s still got Liam. He knows for a fact he wouldn’t have been able to survive a day without his best friend. Zayn thought he was in love with him for a while. He’s mostly over that now, he’d rather have Liam in his life than anything else, realised he might not be the person he kissed hello or fucked but he _was_ the person he could depend on, the one he could call if he blew a tire or needed to get drunk or just wanted to rewatch The Avengers for the billionth time. Zayn can still say ‘I love you’ and mean it and that’s all that matters.

“What are the chances of finding a shower tonight?” Zayn asks, propping his stinking boots up onto the dashboard.

Liam settles back into his seat, turning his head slightly to raise an eyebrow at Zayn. Zayn groans, rubbing his hands across his face and immediately regretting that decision when he smears something on his forehead.

It’s like this. They’ve both lost so much since the outbreak of this curse but they have each other and for the moment it has to be enough. And it is.

~

Zayn didn’t see it coming. He couldn’t _imagine_ the possibility of this happening but he somehow feels more than responsible, like he should’ve been able to tell the future. He should’ve known. It’s his fault that Liam’s gone because he was too fucking stupid and too fucking slow. He can still feel Liam’s grip on his hand, their bones crushed against each other and slipping with blood and guts no matter how many times he clenches and unclenches his hand, Liam’s grip lingers.

Zayn promises he tried to hold on but he could swear on every single star in the god forsaken universe and it won’t bring Liam back. He tried his best but it wasn’t enough.

The grip didn’t hold for long, the swarm of zombies was too overwhelming. Zayn was ahead, breaking out of the crowd for a blessed moment, and Zayn remembers that clear surge of hope that maybe they could both make it out unscathed, before it broke and they couldn’t hold onto each other any longer.

Liam shouted, “Run, Zayn, fucking _run!_ ” and then he was gone, swallowed up by the crushing crowd of the undead.

Zayn only did as he was told.

Zayn left Liam to die.

~

Niall’s slouched against his seat as he drives down the road but he’s still got a sharp eye out. His fingers tap out a jittery beat against the steering wheel, the radio long ago fucked and his Justin Bieber CDs not having survived for this long. He has nothing for company but his baseball bat resting on his dashboard, in easy reaching distance. He does so when he stops by the lone figure on the road, his fingers curling around the heavy wood and he can almost feel it settling in his bones. He ponders for a moment and leaves it on the dashboard, grabs the rifle instead.

He can tell it’s not a zombie but for a moment he has to wonder whether he’s just hoping it’s not. Niall shakes his head, he’s been alone for too long, and gets out of the truck. It’s not a zombie, he’s met enough of them to be able to tell the difference between a zombie and a human, even in this blue dark. He’s lost enough people to know what another broken soul looks like.

The figure startles and immediately jumps behind the remaining wreckage of a car, holding a pistol over the hood, aimed at Niall’s head.

Niall closes the door to his truck at a leisurely place, walking around it with his rifle thrown over his shoulder. He gets into position in front of his car, standing with his two feet spread shoulder length apart, his head tilts to the side on its own accord and he aims his gun too. The difference is that his grip is steady and unyielding – he’s not taking any chances. He knows what this world’s done to humanity, how sometimes humans turn out to be worse than the fucking zombies. Niall doesn’t particularly enjoy the killing but he will to survive.

There’s barely enough light for Niall to be able to make out the man behind the hood of the car. He’s shaking uncontrollably, his grip on the gun slipping from his sweaty palms and he looks utterly devastated. He refuses to lower the gun, glaring brazenly at Niall. He’s desperate with the way he’s trying to communicate non-verbally with Niall, as if he’s daring him to pull the trigger.

“Do it, fucking do it,” he rasps out, voice hoarse and scraping its way out of his throat. He only doubles his efforts, his glowering at Niall to make up for the way he sounds, weak and hopeless. “Shoot me,” he says and when after a pause it becomes clear Niall’s not going to, not straight away anyway, he makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

Niall doesn’t do anything but stare at him calmly, unfazed by much anymore, the rifle held in his steady, capable hands.

With a dry sob, Zayn’s hand drops onto the hood of the car. He fumbles with his gun, getting the safety back on and staggers to his feet. He shakes his head slowly, running a dirty hand through his hair and chokes on his next breath.

“I can’t do it myself. I tried but – I’m too fucking _scared_ ,” he says with a humourless laugh. He’s not staring at Niall anymore but down at the gun as he says, “He’s the brave one.”

Niall’s met enough people on the road since the whole thing started to know what this is. Survivor’s guilt. Niall’s living it after all.

“Mate, where you heading?” Niall asks. He doesn’t lower his gun.

He doesn’t answer for another while, his eyes glued to the metal of the hood of the car. He shrugs and tucks his gun into the waistband of his jeans and says, “I don’t know. Away from here.” He scrubs his hands across his face harshly and the lines of his body is broken with grief and mourning.

“I’m going south if you want to hitch a ride,” Niall says and he fucking _hates_ himself. He can’t help it, he’s a social creature by nature – he needs, he _craves_ the company. He can’t do it by himself, he’s already going crazy.

Still, he should know better by now. He promised he would stop picking anyone up, he knows after Sean and Demi and Josh – he knows that it’s inevitable, people keep _dying_ on him while death refuses to take him.

He doesn’t reply but after a while he laughs again and it feels like ice is slipping down Niall’s spine. He strides forward and climbs into Niall’s stolen (what isn’t these days) truck and shuts it with a slam. He still looks like he wants to ask Niall to put a bullet through his head but he doesn’t say another word, doesn’t ask for mercy. He just curls up on himself and rests his weary head against his knees and gives up.

“I’m Niall,” Niall says and starts the car.

He doesn’t speak again for the half of the night, his head turned away from Niall and towards the windows. When he finally speaks again he croaks out, “Zayn.”

Niall hopes naively enough ‘please don’t die’.

~

Zayn doesn’t talk very much after that but that’s okay, Niall’s used to filling the silence. He finds when he runs out of words that the silence isn’t so bad either, it’s enough to know someone’s there – someone with their own brain and memories and thoughts and wholly human.

Even before this all started, Niall always got along with pretty much anyone. Now that he’s got nowhere to be, nowhere to go – no hope for a cure or a saviour on the horizon – he finds it a pretty useless trait. All he wants to do is go south, he wants to go to the beach their family used to go on vacation and feel the sand between the toes and taste the tang of salt on his tongue. He wants to see one last part of his past life before he dies.

Zayn’s not quite like the others. They were all wounded, grieving; trying their best to survive but Zayn’s hurt is so fresh and gaping, unable to heal. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t ask any questions and Niall thinks – _knows_ – it’s for the best. The more distance between them two the easier it will be when the inevitable happens. It’s clearer than ever now: everybody dies.

It won’t hurt as much when he turns or leaves or dies.

He seems to have a sense of self-preservation, or maybe he’s just unable to see past his grief, that seems to evade Niall even after all this death.

~

“What are all these names?” Zayn asks by the fire one night, holding Niall’s battered, bloody baseball bat up to the light. He traces the blunt edge of his dirty nails across the names carved down the length of it, across Dave and Amy and Josh and the blood splatters dyed into the wood. There’s no space for any more names.

Zayn knows the answer before he asks the question.

Dead.

They’re all dead.

“Who knew a zombie apocalypse would be so shit, aye?” Niall asks, shrugging as he takes a gulp from a water bottle. He wipes at the back of his mouth and smiles a small smile. It’s empty and heartbreaking and it fades slowly as he stares into the flames.

“Yeah,” is all Zayn says and hands the bat back over to Niall. He’s seen him with it before and it’s terrifying and something else all together.

Niall seemed kind of indestructible from when he’d first met him. Shining and golden, a light in the endless blue nights, wholesome, guarded, safe. But now all Zayn can see are the names, names carved into his pale skin, over broken patches held together with nothing more but sheer determination because there’s nothing else to be. He knows Niall’s suffered ten times more than he has.

It doesn’t make his grief for Liam any less terrible though. He keeps seeing him walking down the road with his skin broken, rotting bone showing through the mess. He made Niall turn around the first ten times until he realised it wasn’t Liam, zombie or otherwise, and just put a bullet through its head anyway. Zayn just closes his eyes now and listens to Niall tap out something that sounds vaguely familiar on his steering wheel.

Niall makes him think of how it might have been if they’d met before the fucking zombie apocalypse. If they would’ve been friends, better people, good for each other. He knows that train of thought is too dangerous and tries his best to shut it down, folds in on himself and tries his best not to dream. Because Niall holds him through his nightmares, keeps his arms tight around him so Zayn won’t be able to hurt himself and murmurs nonsense in his lilting accent until he can stop sobbing.

He tries his best but he’s afraid it’s still not enough.

~

“We need more food,” Niall says and Zayn just nods, picking at the drying blood at his fingertips.

The concept of time disappears. It’s just day and night and the constant ache. They go through their supplies and restock every now and again, there’s no real decipherable pattern to it except when they’re in need they go searching. There’s no grand long term plan for the future, nothing they can look forward to, nothing to _save_ them.

Niall has a collection of guitars he keeps in the backseat. He’s constantly adding to the collection whenever they come across them but Zayn notices that he never uses the one he keeps at the very bottom. He thinks it might be the one from home.

Niall randomly grabs one from the pile and slings it over his shoulder, tucking his rifle against his side with his arm and shoving a knife into a makeshift holster at his thigh. He adjusts the straps over his shorts until he’s satisfied and smooths down his loose singlet as if he’s about to perform. There’s blood stained on his pale arms and he even with the way his smile is boyish and easy he looks _menacing_.

Niall grins at Zayn before they enter the supermarket, bright and blinding, like they’re going in for an adventure and not to risk their lives (more so than normal) so they can get fresh bottled water and hopefully some food. Zayn doesn’t know how it happens but he’s smiling back before he can stop himself, his pistol already in his hand.

The mechanic doors open for them with a ding and they tip toe in quietly. Niall holds a finger up to his mouth and starts to slowly edge forward until the door slides shut behind them. He hands his rifle over to Zayn and carefully lifts the guitar off his back, holding it front of him, ready to play. He starts to play a few chords, strumming out a familiar tune that Zayn suspiciously thinks is Justin Bieber and when he raises an eyebrow at him, Niall just winks back and starts to whistle along.

Zayn waits to the side with an amused tilt of his mouth, his whole body tense in anticipation. They’ve miraculously avoided contact with too much zombies in the past few weeks and he feels this might burn off the thrumming energy building in his body.

The first zombie starts coming at them from down the detergent aisle, his arms outstretched in bloody glory. He’s stumbling along, gathering speed and Niall just turns to smile at Zayn again, eyes blue and clear, his braces glinting in the harsh lights of the supermarket before he turns around and swings the guitar at the zombie’s head. He goes down with a loud sickening crack, drops straight down to the ground and Niall doesn’t hesitate to lift the guitar over his head with both arms and bring it smashing down against the Zombie’s head until they’re both broken.

“Double tap,” Niall says, wiping at his chin with his shirt. Zayn huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, unbelievable.

“Here they come,” Niall sing-songs and looks like he’s going to buzz right out of his skin, his liveliness contagious. Zayn realises belatedly it’s because Niall made him laugh, he’s looking at Zayn like that for having made him _laugh_. He has no time to dwell on that because there’s another zombie limping towards them and the gunshot’s ringing loud in his ear.

“Nice,” Niall says, poking at the remains with the little that’s left of his guitar.

They manage to get through four more until they’re fairly sure the super market is clear. Zayn and Niall get to work grabbing as much packaged food and water as they can both carry to load into the truck when a blonde girl comes skidding out the back. Niall and Zayn forget the food, dropping it in their haste to snap into position in barely a second, both of them aiming straight for her pretty head.

“Please help,” she says, desperation ringing in the way she seems to be vibrating helplessly. Her eyes are huge and blue, on the verge of tears and she’s obviously unarmed. “You need to come quick,” she says in her shaky voice and turns around, ignoring the fact that they could shoot her down right there and then and starting back to where she’d come from.

Zayn glances sideways at Niall who lowers his gun. He makes eye-contact and shrugs as if saying _what could happen_ and Zayn rolls his eyes, tries to convey _HOW ABOUT WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A ZOMBIE APOLCAYPSE._ He follows Niall anyway.

“We didn’t have a gun,” she says and climbs onto the table next to another girl. Her friend is shaking, face pale and chalky with her knees tucked right up under her chin. She’s got tears in her eyes, her messy hair falling down over her shoulder. “Jade got bit. We-we didn’t have a gun,” she continues, biting down on her bottom lip.

Jade reaches for her, holding her hand and pulling her in close. “I’m sorry but you know we have to,” she says and kisses her knuckles.

And Zayn gets it – they didn’t have a gun. He looks to Niall to ask if they’re really doing this, if he’s realised what they’re asking for him to do but he’s already loaded his rifle, having come to the conclusion a lot sooner than Zayn. He knows it’s fucking hopeless, they’ve got to do what they’ve got to do.

“We’ve already said our goodbyes,” Jade says, bravely attempting to project her voice levelly. She succeeds until she looks at Perrie and then she has to wipe at her cheeks with the palms of her hand. Perrie gets off the table and reaches down to kiss her, just a light brush of her lip against Jade’s before she’s stepping back towards Niall and Zayn, her shoulders shaking.

“Are we seriously going to do this?” Zayn asks but he already knows the answer.

Niall inhales slowly and aims at her head.

“I want Perrie to do it,” Jade says suddenly, her voice clear. She’s stopped crying, squared her shoulders and looking down the barrel of the gun without so much as a flinch.

“Are you sure?” Niall asks quietly but he’s already handing the gun over, like he’s glad he doesn’t have to do this.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Perrie says and her voice isn’t all that shaky anymore either. She turns around swiftly, too fast for them to react, and she’s got the gun aimed right at Niall’s heart.

Jade jumps up from the table behind them and stretches her arm out, getting the kinks out before she saunters forward, grinning like a shark. She wraps her arms around Perrie from behind, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.

“I think you want to hand me the keys, eyelashes,” Jade says and Perrie smiles at them prettily.

“What the fuck?” Zayn asks but Perrie only quirks an eyebrow at him before pointedly glancing back at Niall and the gun capable of blowing a hole through him in a second.

“Trust no bitch,” Perrie almost _sings_ as the key drops neatly into Jade’s outstretched hand.

“It’s a zombie eat zombie world,” Jade says seriously and then pauses, frowning in confusion. “Wait,” she says but Perrie’s already grabbing her hand.

“See ya boys!” Jade just calls out as they hurriedly back away and out of the shop.

“What the fuck,” Zayn repeats as they run out after them, blinking in confusion as the girls drive away with their truck.

“That was a pretty good one,” Niall says, leaning on the baseball bat. He scratches idly at his belly under his singlet and shrugs innocently when Zayn turns to gape at him.

~

Zayn hesitates, just for a second, and that’s enough for him to lose control. Zayn doesn’t see Niall coming but the zombie crumples in front of him and Niall’s standing right there, his chest heaving. He pushes at Zayn, making him stumble backwards over a corpse and does it again before he can right himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Niall demands and he grabs at Zayn’s shirt, his hand fisted tight in the material, to keep him from falling.

“He was too fast,” Zayn starts to say, shocked by his reaction. He starts to frown, not understanding why Niall’s so angry, defensive and ready to fight.

“Zayn, you _can’t_ do that,” Niall says and his voice sounds all torn up, his teeth gritted. “You can’t fucking die.”

Zayn grabs Niall’s hand, tugging at it so he’d let go of his shirt. He knows he could’ve taken the zombie down, he didn’t want to, even if it was just for a second, he just wanted to _stop_. Looking at Niall now he thinks he probably knows what that feels like more than anyone else.

“I’m trying,” Zayn says and tightens his grip on Niall’s hand.

~

Zayn hears the roaring engine behind them first and he reaches out and touches Niall’s wrist without another sound. Niall glances at him for a moment and he looks away again, turning his head towards the sound of the approaching car. They don’t have a car, not enough food or water and barely any weapons. There’s not much to do but hold up Zayn’s gun and his rapidly declining number of bullets and lift the bat off Niall’s shoulders.

Zayn ignores the urge to shield his eye at the blinding headlights, the night air sending shivers down his sweaty spine, and manages to keep his gun steady. He tries to look as threatening as possible, glaring off into the light. He turns his head to see Niall holding his thumb out. He sighs.

“What’s some boys like you doing in a place like this?” a curly haired boy asks, popping his head out of the window with a charming grin, completely at east.

Zayn doesn’t lower his gun an inch even if Niall laughs, addictive and giddy as always. He’s swinging his bat around aimlessly now, the strength in the muscles of his arms clear in the headlights. Zayn knows Niall could probably cause some real damage in about a second though and he relaxes a little bit, breathing out to calm himself. He trusts Niall.

He follows Niall into the car and tucks his gun out of sight. They introduce themselves and go through the usual ‘where are you going?’ and the following ‘there’s nobody left there’. He keeps his hand on his gun the whole ride and Niall keeps his hand at the nape of Zayn’s neck.

~

When Zayn sees Liam again all he does is blink, turn his head and start walking away. He repeats ‘no’ like a fucking mantra because he’s all he can see when he closes his eyes – he can’t have him haunt him when he’s awake. If he has to see him during his waking hours, see his best mate torn to bits and pieces, chasing after him, desperate to _kill_ him –well.

Zayn’s always wondered what he’d do if it was Liam, not _Liam_ but a zombie. He wonders what he’d do, if he could kill him the second time around and that’s always enough for him to start heaving, choking on nothing but the stale dead air until he feels Niall’s hand on his skin and it feels like Niall carries his heavy heart from the crushing prison of his rib cage for a blessed second.

He can’t be here right now, it’s impossible.

“Zayn,” Liam says, “it’s me.”

“No,” Zayn says out loud this time, refusing to turn around because he’s so fucking scared he can’t even gets his feet to start moving again. “You’re not real.”

“How the fuck do you lads know each other?” Harry’s friend says, his head swinging back and forth from Zayn to where he last saw Liam standing.

“Can you see him?” Zayn asks desperately, his heart suddenly beating so fast all he can hear is the ocean in his ears.

“Uh, duh,” he says, looking back incredulously at Harry as if Zayn’s turned mad.

Zayn spins around because _what the fuck_ and - it’s Liam. It’s Liam fucking Payne and he’s standing in the little clearing with an outrageous grin on his face. He has his arms outstretched as if he expects Zayn to get over here and give him a hug. Zayn’s body seems to move on its own accord and before he knows it they’re both on the ground, knees knocking into each other. Zayn holds on for dear life – solid flesh and bone – Liam’s here, safe and _alive._

“I thought you were – I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Zayn gasps out, digging his fingernails into Liam’s arms.

“Oh,” he hears someone say behind them.

Liam doesn’t say anything but holds him, hugs him back until he’ll probably be able to see the bruises against his ribs tomorrow and laughs. He kisses the side of Zayn’s head, his ear, and says, “Me too. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

Zayn feels a hysterical kind of laughter start to bubble up his chest because it’s so fucking ridiculous. Against all odds, Liam’s alive and he’s with Zayn and he’s _apologising_ for almost dying for Zayn.

“I love you,” Liam says fiercely and Zayn’s so fucking relieved and overcome with it all he feels like he’s going to wake up and he won’t be here anymore. It’d be worth it, to have this.

“I love you too,” Zayn says and tries to wipe his face on Liam’s shirt.

~

“Hi, I’m Louis,” the stranger from before says, handing Zayn a plate of beans. “And you’re Liam’s boyf-,” he starts to say but Harry elbows him in the side and he pulls a face at him instead.

They’ve got a campfire going and they seem to have enough food to last a good while. Harry and Louis don’t mind sharing.

“How’d you meet Liam?” Zayn asks, he’s still got one arm around Liam’s shoulder. He knows he’s being kind of ridiculous but he’s determined to keep him close, feel his heart beating along until he can be sure it won’t stop.

“They saved me,” Liam says, glancing up at Louis. He smiles at him, small and sweet, his eyes crinkling in the corners and looks down at his beans again.

“Well, Lou did. I was just driving,” Harry says and shrugs. Louis grabs him in a headlock to try and hide the look on his face from that _one_ smile from Liam and says, “Don’t put yourself down, Harry!”

“Go on, tell us the story then,” Niall says, spraying his half-chewed food in front of him. He’s lying down on the ground beside the fire by himself and only manages to cover Harry’s right shoe with remnants of his dinner.

Harry laughs, batting at Louis but not putting up much of a real fight. He turns to Niall instead and starts to say in a voice that could probably lull a sick child to sleep, “We just saw a swarm of zombies and y’know, they don’t just crowd together for no reason.”

Louis mimes falling asleep against Harry’s shoulder but he continues on, “And so we thought we could run a few of them down, see if we could help at all but – but there were just so many. Louis ended up grabbing his hand when we gave up and were trying to make a break for it before they got to us, sorry mate,” Harry tacks on for Liam. Liam just nods along, they can all understand, and Zayn motions for him to continue. “Louis managed to pull him onto the back of the truck. Miracle, really, that he wasn’t bitten.”

“Now that young Harold’s told that exciting tale in about an hour, how do you two know each other?” Louis asks, looking from Zayn to Liam with a curious tilt of his head.

“College. We’ve been mates for years,” Liam says and turns his head to smile at Zayn.

~

The rest of the lads leave the two of them to catch up for a little while and Zayn’s glad to have this kind of privacy. He doesn’t feel weird about crying in front of Liam, he’s done it enough times, and Harry and Louis are basically just strangers, he doesn’t care – but he doesn’t want Niall to see. He doesn’t know why, he’s spent the first few weeks sobbing into his shirt while Niall tried to coax even breaths out of him. He doesn’t want Niall to see him like this more than he has to.

Liam and Zayn spend the rest of the night talking quietly, tucked close against each other and holding onto the last sense of _home_ they have in each other. The more Zayn realises he has Liam again the more he’s terrified of losing him again. He doesn’t think he can handle losing him twice – he’s determined not to.

They all sleep tucked close together, it feels safer that way.

“I’m glad you found him,” Niall says before he leaves to stay on guard with Harry.

Zayn thinks he sounds awfully sad but he’s gone before he can say anything else and he feels like he’s missed something in that moment, like an opportunity, something important.

~

They decide to stick together for the time being, they haven’t got any one else and nowhere to be. They’re all just wandering and Zayn pointedly doesn’t think it’s almost like they’re waiting for death. This is all they have now, each other and not much else, and it has to be enough.

~

It’s a long shot but Harry’s back’s been getting worse and Zayn would do anything for a hot shower and a bed. They break into a huge house, ready to risk everything for a good night’s sleep, and Zayn understands it now. He’d risk his life for Liam for the rest of his own life.

Luckily Louis’ there and he yells, “DUCK!” before smashing the vase into the zombie’s skull, sending a cascade of pearls to the floor. The rest of the boys come just in time, having been exploring the rest of the huge house. Harry’s wearing a stupid hat, the ones ladies wear to royal weddings and horse championships, but he’s got his crossbow ready to go too.

“Zayn, shit, are you okay?” Liam asks, holding Zayn’s elbow in a tight grip.

Zayn’s breathing heavily, unable to get enough air into his lungs because that was so fucking close – too close.

“That was _insane_ ,” Louis says and wipes his hand on the walls.

“Yeah, it was,” Niall says and when Zayn finally lifts his head from the zombie (all he saw was Liam’s face and he was going to die again, he was going to die properly this time and Zayn _had_ to stop it from happening) Niall’s arms are crossed and he’s glaring at him.

“You could’ve died,” Harry says and finally puts the crossbow down.

“No shit,” Louis says and Harry makes a vague gesture with his hands and says, “You know what I mean.”

The tension starts to fade bit by bit, the last zombie in the house now gone even if Zayn had come perilously close to getting his face bit off to keep it from Liam. Zayn’s still breathing hard, looking down at the zombie as if it hasn’t sunk in yet, how fucking close that was. Harry’s planning on making them some actual dinner this time and they all start trooping downstairs again, fairly sure there aren’t any more zombies lurking around the house. They’ve blocked all the entries into the house in a quick matter of time and it provides a false sense of security, even if it’s temporary.

Niall catches his eyes, lingering behind everyone else in the hallway. He’s looking at Zayn like he knows too, he understands the debt Zayn thinks he’s in. He understands Zayn’s going to die for Liam some day. Zayn tries to smile at him, like nothing’s changed from when it was the two of them, but Niall just shakes his head and walks downstairs.

~

“You love him?” Niall asks, standing in the doorway to watch as Louis cleans his weapons.

Niall’s seen the way Louis looks at Liam, he thinks it’s the saddest thing he’s ever seen. He thinks it’s mirrored in his face every time he looks up at Zayn.

“Hazza? We’ve been engaged since we were eight,” Louis says easily and doesn’t look up.

Niall doesn’t say anything but waits as patiently as he knows how. He’s vaguely aware that he should probably not be starting this conversation when Louis has _guns_ but Niall’s fast on his feet; he’s not all that worried. Louis doesn’t seem like the type to shoot him mid conversation anyway, he’s seen how he favours his knives.

“After all this – you fell in _love_ with him,” Niall says, he doesn’t understand how this is possible.

Louis finally looks up, a sad little smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Yeah,” he says and shrugs, almost unapologetic about it – as if he’s willing to go through the pain of _losing_ him for it.

Niall doesn’t think he can.

~

Zayn wakes up to the fog pressing in all around him and he knows something’s not right. He can feel Liam against his back but it’s persistent, the niggling thought at the back of his mind that’s trying to urge his body into action. He gets up slowly, blinking sleepily and starts to make his way to where Niall’s supposed to be on guard. He’d let Liam sleep to guard by himself and suddenly Zayn’s rushing forward, images of Niall on the ground with his throat ripped out overcoming his thoughts.

Niall’s not where they agreed to stand guard, he’s not anyway in the perimeter of their campsite for the night. Zayn feels panic start to claw its way up his throat but he doesn’t call out for the others, not yet, he has a feeling he knows exactly where he is. He can’t pinpoint what it is that makes him so sure but his feet have taken him to where their truck is parked and his heart slows in relief when he catches sight of Niall.

He runs forward and Niall drops the bag he was loading off the truck and immediately slams him up against the door, his forearm across Zayn’s neck.

“Fuck, you scared me,” Niall says but doesn’t let go, not enough pressure to hurt him but strong enough to keep him there.

“Sorry,” Zayn says dryly and doesn’t bother reaching for his weapon. “You’re leaving.”

“I was going to leave most of the food,” Niall says but he quickly masks his apologetic tone and grimaces.

“Where will you go?” Zayn asks and tentatively rests his closed fist against Niall’s belly, their hips pressed close together.

“Dunno,” Niall says honestly and drops his arm, propping himself up against the car to lean over him instead. “To the beach.”

Zayn leans in closer, watching Niall’s bright blue eyes zero on in his lip when he swipes at his bottom lip with his tongue. He feels drugged, his blood running sluggish with how Niall’s staring at him and he presses a soft kiss against his lips, unhesitant because it _clicks_.

“I’m asking you to stay,” Zayn whispers against his lips, flattening his palm on Niall’s belly and smoothing it up towards his waist, holding him closer.

Niall lowers himself down, bending his arm at the elbow and pressing Zayn against the side of the truck. He kisses Zayn properly, licks into his parted mouth and answers his plea.

It’s all he needed.

~

The shells are digging into his bare foot and the sun’s abysmal, glaring down at them all through the clouds and casting a dull glow over the beach. The wind’s too cold and the waves are harsh as they lap against the shore.

Still, Niall can taste the salt on his tongue and Zayn’s laughing, his arm held out as he runs into the water.

**Author's Note:**

> Accompanying Liam/Louis [drabble](http://archiveofourown.org/works/569385).


End file.
